


Everybody Talks

by stopcallingmeapollo (GayMarauders), wittlenell



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Teen Angst, Trans Enjolras, Trans Male Character, brothers courfeyrac and grantaire, courf thinks he's clever but he's NOT, pre- and post-transition trans character, rated Teen for now but it may get slightly explicit in later chapters, which turns into adult angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayMarauders/pseuds/stopcallingmeapollo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittlenell/pseuds/wittlenell
Summary: Courfeyrac was sure he could keep his brother and his best friend apart after their nuclear breakup, even when they all got into the same college. Grantaire was sure he'd start to get over his high school girlfriend once he realized he was gay. And Enjolras was sure he would never see his "basic straight guy ex boyfriend" again when he moved across the country after graduation.When they run into each other again three years later, Enjolras and Grantaire discover that old habits die hard...but some might be worth breaking.
Relationships: Bahorel & Cosette Fauchelevent, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Enjolras wove briskly through the mid-afternoon throng on the Quad, nose scrunching as a few fat raindrops found their way to his scalp through his golden curls and sent a chill down his spine. He ducked his head down and pushed forward more quickly, determined to make it across campus before the rain began in earnest and soaked him.

_ I should’ve looked for my umbrella before I left.  _ He reached up to retie his red scarf. The fabric is threadbare and slightly faded, but still stands out against his grey coat; his steps faltered for a moment as he remembered the first time he put it on - or had it put on him, rather.

> _ Enjolras stood under the overhang of the Lemarque High School’s roof, shifting from foot to foot as he watched the rain beat down on the pavement. Beside him was a tall, lanky boy with hair just a bit too messy to be attractive, and a smirk that more than made up for it.  _
> 
> _ “You ready to run, angel?” The voice was pitched a tad lower than it should be, full of teenaged try-hard bravado, but Enjolras still blushed as he looked up. _
> 
> _ “I’m gonna get soaked. I just washed my hair last night.” _
> 
> _ Silence, and then the boy next to him set something on his head, tying it gently under his chin. _
> 
> _ “There. My car’s in the third spot, right there. On your mark, get set -” _

Enjolras shook himself out of the memory as he realized he was nearing his destination: a small coffee shop on the ground floor of the math and sciences building. He broke into a trot as a thunder clap sounded from somewhere nearby, a sense of danger urging him on to the warmth and safety of the brightly-lit room.

* * *

Grantaire’s phone vibrated on his nightstand, jerking him from his paint induced haze. He shook his head gently before reaching out and checking the text that lit up his screen.

_ Cosette [2:23pm]: If I can get you a discount, could you bring me my lunch? _

_ Cosette [2:23pm]: I forgot it in the fridge :( _

_ Grantaire [2:25pm]: A discount you say??? _

_ Cosette [2:26pm]: I’ll let you use my employee one! _

_ Grantaire [2:26pm]: sicko mode _

He chuckled softly, taking a moment to look at his canvas. As his eyes studied the image, he sighed. A blonde woman.

It was embarrassing, really. Every time he tried to make art without guidance, the only muse that seemed to be able to rely on was… Her. The same woman, over and over. An  _ ex.  _ How fucking cliche was that? It had been years, sobriety and a sexuality shift and he was still drawn to her. Her hair, her soft features, her  _ eyes. _

> _ “You can’t keep looking at me like that, angel,” He laughed. _
> 
> _ “Like  _ what _?” Came the harsh reply. _
> 
> _ “Like you could kill me if only I weren’t so handsome, of course,” He reached up and tugged on a loose blonde curl, just to rile up those blue eyes. _
> 
> _ “R, stop!” _
> 
> _ “Make me.” _

Grantaire shrugged on his coat as he leaned out his front door, listening to the thunder clap far out. He sighed, accepting what this would do to his hair and set out to the cafe on campus, Cosette’s lunch in hand.

* * *

Enjolras completed his mad dash to the cafe door and slid inside, shivering as the warm air hit his freezing ears. He looked down at his messily-knotted scarf, clumsily attempting to untie it as he moved vaguely in the direction of the line, already overheating in the cozy cafe. He made it a few steps forward as he wrestled the red fabric, nearly freeing himself before colliding with something solid.

“Fuck, sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was...going…”

The man before him stepped forward to stabilize himself, turning back to look at Enjolras as he spoke.

“Oh, shit- you’re fine, I-”

He blinked.

Enjolras gawked.

Grantaire’s eyebrows drew together, eyes widening with recognition.

“Angel?” Poured from his mouth before he could stop it.

“Sorry, I d-don’t think I know you.” Enjolras stuttered. The voice was lower and huskier, but still, with that single word, undeniable.  _ Fuck.  _

“Uh- yeah,  _ yeah, _ my bad,” Grantaire rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushing, “You just,” A cough, “Remind me of someone.”

“R,” Cosette called from behind the counter, “I have your order.”

Grantaire, who definitely hadn’t ordered yet, took a moment to continue staring at the boy before he stepped out of line to meet the barista. 

_ What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.  _ His hands shook slightly as he handed over the plastic container of leftovers and smiled and winked as he took the warmed sandwich, trying not to let on to his roommate that he was  _ definitely  _ losing his shit.

Enjolras ducked his head down, pulling out his phone and opening his texts as his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

_ Enjolras [3:07pm]: Did you know he was here? _

_ Enjolras [3:07pm]: I’m in that cafe Ferre likes but when I’m done i’m calling you and you ARE GOING TO PICK UP _

_ Enjolras [3:08pm]: I know you have your phone out during class ANSWER ME why is he here???? _

_ Enjolras [3:10pm]: Court I think he recognized me. Wtf. i’m freaking out _

_ Enjolras [3:10pm] *courf. Fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck _

_ Courfeyrac is typing… _

_ Courfeyrac is typing… _

_ Courfeyrac is typing… _

“Are you okay, sweetpea?” Cosette spoke up before Grantaire could get too far away.

“I’m totally fine,” He lied, “I’ll see you at home after your shift.” He power walked out of the cafe, completely forgetting about the thunderstorm as he spoke into his phone.

_ Grantaire [3:10pm]: Hey comma you gay fucking twink, care to tell me why I just ran into my ex in a cafe on campus in New York? That sure doesn’t seem like an interesting coincidence period I feel like I’m shitting out all of my intestines pardon me ma’am oh what a good boy I love him have a nice day I’m going to fucking kill you _

_ Courfeyrac is typing… _

_ Courfeyrac is typing… _

* * *

“I fucked up,” Courfeyrac whispered, “Combeferre we’re really in it now,  _ oh  _ I fucked up.”

“What? What happened - is everyone ok?” Combeferre looked up from his book with a look of concern. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” 

The dorm lounge was empty except the two of them, and Courfeyrac took full advantage of that fact in order to throw himself across an entire couch face-first.

“So you know how I was lying to my roommate and my brother for the past three years?” Courfeyrac’s words were muffled by the cushions of the couch, “And you know how you were like,  _ hey buddy, I don’t know you, but this sounds like a really bad idea?  _ And I was like,  _ no, I got this, there’s no reason they’d ever be in the same place at the same time? _ ”

“Y-yeah…” Combeferre said slowly, setting his book down and taking a deep breath. “I take it your system finally broke down?”

“There may have been… an incident… at Steamy Beans… As of fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh I love that place,” Combeferre said, “I just recommended it to -  _ Oh.  _ Hmmm. _ ” _

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Courfeyrac sat up quickly, “Hmm. This was working perfectly fine until you told Enjolras to broaden his horizons, and now  _ he wants me to call him. _ ”

“I see.” Combeferre nodded wisely. “Well you must have known this day was coming. I say bite the bullet and call him. It can’t possibly be  _ that  _ bad, can it? I mean high school breakups suck, but it’s been what, three or four years? I’m sure they can coexist on the same campus without any sort of major disaster.”

“You don’t understand, Ferre, they broke up over a game of air hockey,” He stressed, “And the last time they saw each other Enjolras was a woman and Grantaire was smelly. Do you know what Grantaire looks like now? He’s hot. They’re both hot. This is stupid, why did you let me do this?” He devolved into rambling, speaking solely through train of thought and no filter.

> _ “I never want to see that stupid, greasy, smug  _ asshole _ again,” Enjolras spat, face twisted in disgust. “I can’t believe I ever let him touch me. I thought I had  _ standards _ , Courf.” He flounced onto his bed in a huff. “I swear if I ever see him again I’m going to kill him. I don’t even care, I’ll go to jail, I’m gonna kill him. Will you visit me in jail?”  _
> 
> _ Courfeyrac sat silently for a long moment before swallowing hard. _
> 
> _ “I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? My brother’s totes gross. I should’ve warned you sooner, honestly.” He winced slightly, not wanting to really get anywhere in the middle of the fight. _
> 
> _ “Just promise me you’ll help me avoid him til he graduates. I don’t want to run into him  _ at all.”  _ Enjolras levelled his laser-focused blue stare at Courfeyrac, trapping him in place. “It’s this or prison, Courf.” _
> 
> _ “O-of course,” He promised weakly, “Yeah. I can do that.” _

“And then I  _ did! _ ” He shouted, “I did for three years! I didn’t even tell them when they applied to the same stupid school!” He fell back onto the couch, “Combeferre, what the hell am I doing!?”

“Well whatever you were doing, you’re certainly not doing it anymore, if that helps,” Combeferre said unhelpfully.

“Literally not at all!”

A phone buzz.

Courfeyrac’s eyes shot open.

“It’s him.”

“Which him?” Combeferre asked, peering over Courf’s shoulder.

“Enjolras,” He whined, a selfie of the two of them at their college orientation flashing on his screen, “Do I… answer him?”

“I think you have to,” Combeferre said gently. “Do you want privacy or emotional support?”

Courfeyrac grabbed hold of Combeferre’s collar, answering the phone with a bright smile.

“Hi Enj.”


	2. Chapter 2

“ _ Grantaire?!”  _ Enjolras’s voice cracked slightly and he rubbed his temple with his free hand as he practically ran across campus back to the dorms, ignoring the rain completely in his haste to put as much distance as possible between himself and the other man. “Why didn’t you warn me he was visiting, Courfeyrac?”

“Oh… Oh babe, no,” Courfeyrac winced, “He uh… He’s not visiting.”

“He is, Courf, I  _ saw  _ him. He’s on campus  _ right now.” _

Courfeyrac looked to Combeferre with sad eyes, as if asking permission to keep up the lie. When the other man only shook his head, he sighed.

“No- yeah, I know, he’s been on campus for three years.”

“What’re you...Courf, no. Please. This isn’t - he doesn’t - please tell me he doesn’t go here.” Enj’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he pulled out his ID and swiped it, entering the lobby and facing the couches where his friends sat.

Courfeyrac looked over, his heart racing and his phone still held up to his face. He smiled weakly.

“ _ Surprise, _ ” He quietly sang.

Enjolras sank onto one of the overstuffed chairs, phone still held to his ear, and looked to Combeferre as if for confirmation. Finding no comfort there, he closed his eyes and took a single deep breath.

“You’re saying he’s been here...the entire time. And I’m just now finding out.”

Courfeyrac felt his phone slip out of his hand, only barely registering that Combeferre had taken it from his grasp and hung up the call.

“You said… not to talk to you about him,” He frowned, “So I… didn’t.”

“How...how did this happen,” Enjolras said helplessly, setting down his phone. “How did we get this far? Wait - Does he know I’m here? Is that how he recognized me?”

“No, are you stupid?” Courfeyrac furrowed his brow, “Why would I tell him you go here? He would kick my ass for not talking you out of it before you were even accepted.”

“So we’ve just magically avoided each other for the past three semesters?!”

“ _ Magical  _ isn’t really the word I would use for it, I’ve put in a lot of work to have you two avoid each other,” He shifted in his seat, finally taking his hand off of Combeferre’s sweater, “I have two Facebooks. I also know where both of you like to study and get late night food, which never crosses,  _ thank God. _ Besides, it’s not like you have similar majors, you guys are hardly on the same square of campus… other than today, obviously.”

This time Enjolras rubbed his temples with both hands, leaning forward and staring at the ground.

“Two...Facebooks,” he echoed incredulously. “You’re serious - you really kept us apart this whole time. And now he’s here. Or he’s always been here. And he knows I’m here. And he called me  _ Ang -  _ uh, he knew who I was. Do I - do I transfer?”

“ _ Do you trans-  _ Are you insane?” Courfeyrac gawked, “Did you not just hear me? You guys barely cross paths, you literally only met because you tried a new campus cafe, this isn’t going to become like a recurring thing.” He sat for a moment, then arched an eyebrow, “Unless… You wanted it. To become a recurring thing.”

“You think I want to see my stinky basic straight white guy high school boyfriend  _ more?”  _ Enjolras exclaimed, standing up and pacing. He turned to Combeferre, the voice of reason. “Have you met him yet? He’s the worst. He never washes his hair. He’s never operated a washing machine in his life. He unironically plays Wonderwall at parties. He’s the guy who shows up high to class and wants to  _ play Devil’s advocate  _ in  _ every  _ debate. I fucking hate him.”

“Hey- wait, hang on,” Courfeyrac stood up, hands firmly on his hips, “I get you don’t fucking like him, but can you wait one fucking minute before you start talking shit about him to my friends?” He crossed his arms tightly, “He got sober, Enj, he’s doing really good now. You don’t have to be his friend or anything but- lay off him.”

Enjolras’s jaw tightened as he bit back a sarcastic replay, and Combeferre raised his eyebrows - this was a different side to both of his friends, although they hadn’t known each other long, and seeing the usually verbose Enjolras at a loss for (appropriate) words was rare.

“Maybe we should all just...try to calm down a bit,” he suggested. “Enj doesn’t have to be best friends with your brother, Courf, but most people do get better after high school - I know I was insufferable, but I’d like to think I’ve grown since then.”

“Well, good news is that he probably doesn’t want to be friends with Enj, either,” He bit out, “So, you two can go back to not knowing the other one is here and I can go back to my two Facebooks and we can act like today didn’t happen.”

Another phone buzz.

“It’s probably Marius,” Courfeyrac said, taking his phone from Combeferre, “I left my books in class.” He shot Enjolras a look, chest tight and eyes burning with tears, before walking out with a half-empty bag.

Enjolras blinked at Combeferre, face blank.

“He’s never yelled at me before,” he said simply. 

“He’s been working really hard,” Combeferre replied. “There were spreadsheets.”

“I should help him get his stuff.”

“I think he’d like that.”

Enjolras hurried off after Courfeyrac, leaving Combeferre alone in the lounge once more.


	3. Chapter 3

Grantaire opened the door to his apartment and just stared at his younger brother.

“I know you’re mad,” Courfeyrac said immediately, “I’ve been… dealing with the other side of things all day.”

Grantaire just shook his head and walked in, gesturing for Courfeyrac to follow him. He stepped into the kitchen where he was actively cooking dinner, his roommates seemingly nowhere to be found.

“Can you speak to me?” Courfeyrac asked after sitting in silence for just a little too long.

“I don’t know what to say,” Grantaire answered, pressing his hands to the counter and leaning forward, “Because I have a  _ lot  _ of questions.”

“I can answer them.”

“Why did you let him come here?” He tilted his head, eyes boring into Courfeyrac’s face.

“Because he- wouldn’t… really listen to me,” He bit his lip, “He wanted to be away from you so bad, he wanted to move as far from home as possible.”

“And nobody thought to tell him that I literally did the exact same thing?”

“I  _ just  _ said he wasn’t listening to me,” He narrowed his eyes, “I can only do so much to take care of a hormonal teen boy when I’m  _ also  _ a hormonal teen boy.”

“Oh, yeah, by the way, what the fuck?” Grantaire shook his head, changing the subject just like that, “When did this whole  _ he  _ thing start? I’m not mad, but someone could’ve let me know that my ex was actually a trans man.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes widened briefly before he sneered.

“Why would I tell you if you literally blocked each other on everything? Why are you entitled to that information?”

“I don’t know, Courf, maybe because I  _ ran into him on my campus today, _ ” He gestured widely, “It’s not like we were worlds apart, we came to the same fucking school.” He shut off the stove harshly, moving the pan to a different burner before grabbing plates from the cupboard.

“I’m not hungry,” Courfeyrac muttered.

“Shut up,” Grantaire rolled his eyes as he served him. He took a perch on the counter and the two ate in complete silence.

The air was heavy. For a brief moment, Cosette entered the room to fill up her water bottle while she practically whispered a hello to them both. She left quickly.

“Is he still mad?” 

Courfeyrac looked up then back down to his plate.

“Yeah…”

Grantaire shook his head and sighed.

“Figured.” He clapped Courfeyrac’s shoulder, “Well. Whatever. I can’t stop using that cafe because my girl Cosette works there, but I won’t mention him anymore. He doesn’t exist. Enjolras who? Never heard of him.”

Courfeyrac smiled sadly.

“Never heard of him…” He set the plate on the counter beside his brother, “Thanks for dinner.”

Grantaire just shrugged and started to clean up. When it was clear he had nothing else to say, Courfeyrac quietly left.


	4. Chapter 4

“Anything else on the agenda?” Combeferre asked, glancing at the clock.

Weeks had passed since Enjolras’s unfortunate run-in, and aside from a few anxious moments upon seeing a miscellaneous greasy man pass by on the street, nothing had changed.  _ Les Amis,  _ his action-oriented queer student group, was beginning to make plans for the next semester’s project in advance of the impending winter break, and the flurry of activity (in addition to studying for Finals) quickly consumed Enjolras.

“We need to find someone for posters and graphics,” Joly piped up. “Like...someone who knows how to do them. A graphic designer, for example. No offense, Enj, your designs have been…”

“A disaster,” Enjolras supplied glibly. “I completely agree, we need a real artist working on them. Any ideas?”

“Courf probably knows someone,” Combeferre said. “You could ask him tonight, or whenever he’s feeling better.”

“Actually I think I know someone!” Bahorel cut in. “I took a history class with him last semester. He’s pretty chill, gay, I bet he’d be willing to help out.”

“Great, why don’t you ask him, and we’ll bother Courf later if your guy falls through. Sound good?” Enjolras said, scanning the group. Everyone nodded, and began the 5:55 pm pre-exit shuffle. “In that case, meeting adjourned.”

“Oh, man, don’t even worry about it,” Bahorel mused, already pulling out his phone as he exited the room. Within seconds, his voice came booming, “Hey, man! I got a favor to ask you.”

Combeferre shook his head with a small smile as he pulled on his jacket.

“We’re certainly in for a character if Bahorel thinks he’s a good guy,” He remarked fondly. He turned to Enjolras, “How is he doing, by the way? Courfeyrac, that is.”

“I think he’s ok now,” Enjolras said. “We had a heart-to-heart and we’re fine. He was right, anyway, if we didn’t run into each other for this long we can keep avoiding each other for another three semesters. Assuming that’s all it takes for him to leave.”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow, and Enjolras sighed.

“That was mean, I know. I’m working on it! He just... _ still _ manages to bring out the worst in me, somehow. And to be fair, some things never change. I really doubt he’s particularly studious all of a sudden.”

“I mean, certainly I don’t know anything about him, but it’s always possible he found a way to be engaged with his material now that he gets to choose his own classes,” Combeferre said, shouldering his bag, “Besides, I think it’s in your best interest to hope he graduates on time. You know. So you can avoid him easier?”

“Point taken. In that case, here’s to Grantaire, longshot valedictorian!” Enjolras raises his water bottle and takes a swig. “Anyway, do you have a minute? We should probably talk content for the posters if we’re bringing a real graphic designer on board.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We took a little break while James was working on a big gay opera commission (follow him on tumblr @stopcallingmeapollo for details) but we're back for now! Hope you didn't miss us too much - and thanks for sticking around. The next chapter is already in the works.


	5. Chapter 5

“Shit, shit, shit,” Grantaire mumbled to himself as he rushed through campus. He checked his phone screen once more out of habit, knowing already that he was late. Later than late.

He had intended on showing up early to the meeting for this new club, but somehow he got caught up in yet another art piece. He could’ve  _ sworn  _ he had set an alarm, but now here he was, charcoal smudged up his forearm and a sketch pencil shoved through a messy bun of day two curls. And yeah, maybe he did park a little close to the line, but he wouldn’t be the first and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

He finally came to a stop at the right door and took only a second to breathe before he opened the door, hoping he could at least sneak inside without drawing too much attention… but that went to hell in just a single moment as blue eyes turned onto him.

_ Angel? _

* * *

“--close to twenty professors’ names on the list asking for a pronoun field on the roster, do we think…” Enjolras trailed off as the door opened, and he failed to pick up the thread of his thought as he took in the figure standing at the back of the room.

Grantaire was,  _ of course _ , a mess; his hair pulled back into something between a bun and a ponytail, streaks of what looked like dirt on his hands and face. He was still the lanky, angular boy Enjolras remembered from high school, in ripped jeans and (probably) the same threadbare green hoodie. But the longer Enjolras looked, the more little things jumped out - the gauges in his ears were new, and he’d finally managed to grow some respectable stubble. He also carried himself differently, his shoulders no longer hunched forward, and his self-satisfied smirk was gone; although that could be because it had been replaced with a look of shock as he stared back at Enjolras.

“I  _ said _ , this is my pal R. He’s the graphic designer I told you about.” Bahorel’s voice cut through Enjolras’s reverie. He blinked hard, shifting his gaze to Bahorel and smiling tightly.

“Hello, R,” Combeferre broke in, smiling politely and setting a subtle hand on Enjolras’ shoulder. “Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, we can chat after the meeting.”

“Y-yeah,” Grantaire shook his head gently, finally tearing away his gaze. He sat next to Bahorel, glancing up at Courfeyrac just long enough to catch that he, too, wasn’t expecting this judging by how pink his face had turned.

“You were saying?” Combeferre said, turning back to Enjolras.

“What?”

“About the professors and the pronouns on class rosters?”

“Oh. Right. Well, we have almost twenty.”

“You said that already.”

“I...did. Right. We also have about a hundred TAs and grad students.”

“So...are we sending in the petition?” Joly asked, face scrunched in confusion.

“No, that was my question.”

“I don’t think you asked your question, Enj,” Combeferre said gently.

“Oh! I’m wondering...if we should wait until we hit our target, which was fifty professors.” Enjolras paused. The room silently watched him buffer until he seemed to catch up with himself, several looks unsubtly exchanged in the meantime. “It took us three weeks to get to eighteen, but we picked up steam in the last week, so…”

“All in favor of giving it another two weeks?” Feuilly cut in, holding up a hand. The group quickly raised their hands as well. “Great. We’ll table this until the end of the semester, then, which will give IT time to change it in the system over break if the school agrees.”

“Exactly.” Enjolras’ gaze slid from Feuilly’s freckled face back to Grantaire, who was slumped slightly in his chair, trying his best to look attentive.

_ Shit, shit, shit, shit. _

Grantaire stared towards the front of the room, not taking in literally any information. How did this happen? Why was this happening? He just wanted to help out his gym buddy, he didn’t realize every week Courfeyrac went to a club meeting he was going to--

_ This is so fucking unfair, I was keeping my distance, now I look like an asshole. Can I back out? Is that more rude? No matter what I do, he’s going to get mad at me, I can already tell, he always got mad over everything I did in high school.  _

“I think now would be a good time to wrap up,” Combeferre said, “It’s a little early, but we have to meet with our new graphic designer. Right, Enjolras?”

“Right.”

The rest of the club busied themselves packing up their things, a few taking a moment to introduce (or re-introduce - Grantaire seemed to know almost everyone somehow) themselves on their way out. 

In the hallway, just out of earshot of Grantaire and the club leadership, Jehan sidled up to Joly and Bossuet.

“Did Enjolras seem a bit... _ off _ ...to either of you?” They asked.

“Yeah, what  _ was  _ that?” Bossuet exclaimed. “It almost seemed like - but that’s not, I mean, I’m just reading way too much into this, right?”

“I’ll text Courfeyrac later,” Joly patted Bossuet’s arm as if to reassure him, “I’m positive he’ll spill the tea.”

Their steps disappeared down the corridor and the man in question peered outside the door just to be sure no club members were still around. With the coast clear, he turned around to face the three men still in the room.

“What are you doing here?” Courfeyrac gaped at his brother.

“Bahorel invited me, why the hell do you think I’m here?” Grantaire purposefully kept his eyes away from Enjolras, “I can go if you have other offers.”

“We don’t,” Combeferre said bluntly. “And based on the samples here,” he held up a beat-up manilla folder full of artwork, “I’d say we’d be lucky to have you.”

Grantaire looked at Combeferre fully for the first time and  _ hey, that must be the guy Courf - focus.  _

“What do you need from me, workload wise?” He raised an eyebrow, ignoring the heat creeping up his neck, “Do I need to be here every week if I’m just doing posters?”

_ Why would you even make posters for a group you don’t want to be involved in?  _ Enjolras bit his cheek in annoyance.

“You don’t have to come at all,” he said evenly, “But if you’d like to get a feel for the group you’re designing for, you’re more than welcome to come. We’re open to everyone, that’s the point.”

Grantaire turned his eyes to Enjolras and for just a moment, a chill struck the room. Like all the air had been sucked out at the precise instant they locked eyes.

“Is that so,  _ Angel? _ ” 

He didn’t know why he said it. But the way Enjolras spoke to him made him grind his teeth, acting like everything was fine when it obviously wasn’t. He knew him, and he knew Courfeyrac, and if his brother’s stupid two Facebook plan wasn’t tell enough, the way Enjolras looked like he’d rather be anywhere else was.

_ FUCK. YOU. He did not just say that. He did not just - I can’t believe I ever thought that was  _ cute,  _ what a fucking asshole - _

“It’s pronounced ‘on-zhol-rahs.’” Enjolras’ jaw tightened. Then, a thought; a way out: A challenge for the most typically straight man he knows. “We’ll see you next week - Combeferre will be leading a discussion on gay safe sex.”

Combeferre almost choked, looking at Courfeyrac in confusion as Enjolras stared Grantaire down.

Grantaire furrowed his brow and blinked rapidly.

“Like… just telling you all how to do it?” He asked, “You’re dedicating a meeting to someone teaching you all about… anal? I’ve been to enough gay bars, I think your whole club is set on that one.”

Courfeyrac, losing his composure second by second, grabbed Combeferre’s forearm tightly as he hit the wall with his fist.  _ What are they doing. _

Enjolras blinked.

“Sorry, what?”  _ That was supposed to scare him off, what the hell is he talking about? _

“What do you mean what? I think your club is set, I don’t even think Combeferre is qualified to lead that,” He held out a hand to the man in question, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you get ass, but you aren’t like… a health teacher.”

Combeferre bit his lip, nodding. 

“He’s right about that.” Courfeyrac elbowed him, glaring at Enjolras.

“You’ve been...clubbing...with the other Amis?”  _ Bahorel...Bahorel said his designer friend was gay.  _ “Are you gay?!”

“Enjolras, you can’t -” Combeferre exclaimed.

“Do you think I’m straight?” He asked loudly, suddenly realizing.

“Of course he thinks you’re straight, you  _ dated,”  _ Courfeyrac drawled, face gone red with blush.

“Oh man, guess I gotta call that guy from my lit class and tell him I’m sorry for sucking his dick, I’m actually straight,” He was getting defensive, he knew it, and he didn’t quite know why. Enjolras wouldn’t know he was queer now, but the assumption of it-- no wonder he was being targetted, “I gotta go, actually, gotta go clean my truck and do manly, straight guy things.”

“Grantaire, that’s not--”

“Boobs are great! I love them, obviously!” He took his folder full of artwork and headed for the door. As he was about to step over the threshold, he turned back and looked Enjolras dead in the eye, “You’re not the only one who changed after high school, you’re not special.”

“Clearly you didn’t change enough.” He almost regretted the words as soon as he said them, for some reason, but then Grantaire was gone and it was too late. Enjolras turned and packed his bag slowly and deliberately, not making eye contact with the two remaining men in the room. When he was sure Grantaire was well and truly gone, he headed for the door, ears ringing and heart still pounding. “I’ll see you guys in class.”

* * *

And so the week passed. Grantaire wasn’t mentioned within the walls of the Courfeyrac-Enjolras dorm room, and Enjolras wasn’t mentioned at a much-needed brother’s brunch. It was only Combeferre who got an earful that week, from a very understandably stressed Courfeyrac. By the time the following Friday came, it was unclear as to whether or not their graphic designer was going to return, or even accept the job.

However, as Enjolras entered the meeting room ten minutes prior to starting time, he was handed a cup from Combeferre and noticed the scrawling across it immediately.

_ Sorry. -R _

That’s all it said. A simple sorry. A simple letter. 

He twisted the cup slightly to read the ingredients.

Hot chocolate, peppermint, extra whip.

It was only then that he heard a chuckle roll from the back of the room and his eyes shot up to find Grantaire sitting with Bahorel, Bossuet and Joly, laughing.

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bigger chapter for you today! We're in the midst of a move, but hoping the change of scenery will make writing easier.   
> We always love to here your predictions - any guesses on what will happen next?


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